


Book Clubs, Cannibalism, And Threesomes

by science_fiction_is_real, WenchicusThoticus



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Crack, Cuckolding, F/M, Humor, M/M, Scheming, Sexual Humor, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 20:10:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16125851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/science_fiction_is_real/pseuds/science_fiction_is_real, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WenchicusThoticus/pseuds/WenchicusThoticus
Summary: There are only three types of people who hold dinner parties: book club hostesses, cannibals, and dysfunctional married couples looking to have a threesome. So which type are Ursa and Ozai when they invite Commander Zhao into their home? Let's find out.





	Book Clubs, Cannibalism, And Threesomes

Princess Ursa of the Fire Nation was most dissatisfied with her sex life. Well, she was dissatisfied with all of her lives, but her sex life in particular was the most disappointing.   
   
It had been ten years since her last orgasm, which coincidently, was the last time she had had sex with someone other than her husband, Prince Ozai. It had been a long and hard marriage, vastly different from Ozai’s dick.  
   
Since that time she had, among other things, birthed two horribly-misbehaved fire-bending children (who required constant supervision lest they burn down the palace), joined the Repressed Noble-Women's Sewing Circle which met at 4:20 every Tuesday, and had watched her clitoris become degraded with rust and caked with cobwebs until she was no longer sure that it worked.  
   
In her depression and desperation, Ursa’s mind began to look at the various non-Ozai men of the court.  Every night, she would humor Ozai as he bored her to death, but when he fell asleep, his loud, obnoxious, princely snore would fade from her awareness, and she’d rub her love knob thinking about other men.  Like that scene in American Beauty where Kevin Spacey is getting sprinkled with flower petals, but with less pedophilia.  
   
And the man that was on her mind the most was none other than Captain Zhao.   
   
Ursa had first met the Captain while visiting Ozai's fire bending practice session.  She had seen Zhao training shirtless in the grass, doing some fucktastic kicks and twirls and flips, his muscles rippling, his long and beautiful mutton chops waving in the breeze. Much sexier than Ozai’s goddamn goat beard.  
   
"Hi there," Ursa said to Zhao, approaching him. “Could I ask you a question?  I've been looking for you.”  
   
"And I've been looking for victory, glory, conquest, and a stiff hard drink," Zhao replied with a hearty and seductive chuckle.  
   
Ozai stormed over. "Zhao!  Stop talking to my wife!" he bitched like the whiny little bitch that he was.  
   
Zhao immediately turned red in the face.  "Oh... Deepest apologies, my prince.  I never would have meant to offend you.” He batted his full and lush eyelashes, accidentally shooting this bitter prince the bedroom eyes. Ursa noticed the way the Captain's handsome face turned cherry crimson at the sight of her husband's grumpy visage, the way his neck began to sweat, the way the front of his attractively and unnecessarily tight pants got just a liiiittle tighter when he looked at Ozai.  
   
Hmmmm, Ursa thought.  Methinks perhaps this handsome man in uniform is wearing a uniform for the other team.  
   
“In a moment, dear,” Ursa said, anxious to test her hypothesis.  “The Captain is humoring his princess to answer one humble question.  Captain Zhao, there is a lovely lady friend of mine who is in need of a suitable husband and/or fuckbuddy. Might I interest you in setting up a date with her?"   
   
“I’m open,” Zhao said.  “But first I gotta know if she’s got big tits.”  
   
She glanced down to examine her own buxom bosoms, and imagined Zhao’s manly hands grabbing them and giving them a hearty honk the way a clown might honk a honkhorn.  She had to restrain herself from latching onto Zhao in this very instant and making out with him in front of everyone.  
   
“They are most definitely above-average-sized knockers,” Ursa responded.  
   
“Then I’m game,” Zhao said.  
   
Ah, yes, thought the lady Ursa. Indeed, he swings both ways…  
   
And thus the wheels of thoughtitude did turn in the Lady Ursa's brain.  And her rusty, dusty, cobwebby clit did awaken from hibernation to feel itself once again receiving blood-flow.  And Ursa schemed.  
   
"Bi, the captain is..." She said to herself that night while pacing the palace halls.  "I fancy the captain, and the captain fancies my husband, and my husband fancies power.  Perhaps a scheme is in order.”  
   
That night, Ozai, cranky as an inebriated crab that had gotten stuck in a shrinking tide pool, called Ursa to his bed.  
   
"Relieve my stress, Wife!”  
   
Ursa sighed and laid down upon the bed.  "As you wish, dear.”  
   
Ozai wrung his hands together with delight as he undressed his wife.  He climbed atop her, and Ursa felt a vague tickle in her nether regions as he entered her.  At least that was what she assumed he was doing; she couldn't really feel his teenie weenie very well. But he seemed to be having a good time, judging by the ridiculous noises he was making.  
   
"Oh. Yes. Baby," he panted.  "AH! FUCK YES.”  
   
Ursa looked up at the calendar next to the bed and double-checked to see when Azula's next fire bending performance would be. She might as well be productive while she waited for Ozai to wear himself out. She needed to start bringing crossword puzzles and keeping them on the nightstands for such occasions, but he usually was so short-lasting that she had never really seen the point of that.  
   
I just love being a passive receptacle for a man’s pleasure, she thought, transcending to a new level of being done with everything. The intercourse would probably hurt instead of feel like nothing is he hadn't had such a skinny penis. Good god, can't you just jerk off in front of a mirror instead of boring me to death? she nigh cried out.   
   
And then she remembered the sight of the Captain's erect erection in his ridiculously tight trousers, and suddenly her mood changed. Zhao's penis would probably at least be large enough to cause a physical sensation. Would it be pleasurable? Would it hurt? Who knew? But Ursa would have traded this boredom for anything. And thus, her delightfully devilish plan blossomed in the depraved corners of her mind.  
   
"AAAAAGGGGGGGH!!!!!!" Ozai screamed in victory. He thrust into her like a thumbtack pushing into the four-inch hide of a rhinoceros. He released in her a small drop of liquid that may or may not have contained a singular sperm cell.  He then collapsed beside her, panting and huffing like a fluffy Pekingese that had been made to walk a half mile in mildly warm weather.  
   
"Is your stress now relieved, dear?" Ursa asked, wondering whether or not the feeble drop of semen was worth the effort of going through her birth control ritual.  
   
"Oh yes, wife," Ozai said.  "At least until one of the servants decides not to put enough whip cream on my nightly hot cocoa.”  
   
"Oh yes, dear," Ursa said.  "That would send any sane, rational person flying into a vein-throbbing, heart-attack-inducing rage as it does for you.”  
   
"I love how well you understand me, Ursa.”  
   
"Dear..." Ursa began.  "The wheels have been turning in my brain…"  
   
"A woman?  Thinking?  Now Ursa, we talked about how dangerous that is.”  
   
"Well, sometimes it can't be helped, love.  But... you know how you absolutely hate your brother, and everything he does, and how you wish to claim the throne for yourself and feed his disgraced and desecrated corpse to street dogs?”  
   
"Who told you I felt that way?”  
   
"You did, dear.  Every single night since my last orgasm,” she said.  “I mean, before our wedding,” she hastily asserted. She decided to set the conversation back on track. "But you know what's been longer than THAT?” She had to stop herself from saying, Zhao’s dick, hopefully. Instead, she spake, “The time that your brother has been taking what should be yours."   
   
"Shit, Ursa, you're right.”  
   
"And I have a wicked scheme to bring him to his knees.  But not in a sexual way.  Just in a regular on-his-knees way."  
   
"What way is that, wife? Pray tell!”  
   
"You see, Dear Ozai, under the wicked and repressive rule of Fire Lord Sozin, many normal and wonderful things were banned, such as dancing, wearing the color blue, homosexuality, and books where the dogs die.”  
   
"Hey.  Life is better since books where the dogs die have been banned.”  
   
"Well, that's true, but the other bans are quite silly.  And since homosexuality is banned, it would deeply disgrace your brother if it were revealed that one of his top officers played for that team?”  
   
"What team?  The Caldera City Fire Ferrets?”  
   
“No, dumbass,” she sighed in exasperation.  “The Gay Team.  We're going to expose Captain Zhao for being a homosexual and get your father to disavow your brother as heir to the throne!”  
   
"Oooooh!" Ozai stared up at the ceiling.  "Wait.  How does Zhao being gay mean that Iroh needs to be disavowed?”  
   
“Well…” Ursa realized her plan had some flaws.  “We have to get caught in the act, and Zhao has to be in a position that makes him look terrible.”  
   
"Hmmm," Ozai considered. “I've got it! What if he sucks my dick? I mean I’m not the one who will be sucking dick, so that only makes him gay. Besides, it's also been ten years since you blew me.”  
   
"I blew you last night, dear. Right after you told me how much you hated your brother.”  
   
"...Oh yeah. Well, I was wondering if it would feel any different if a guy did it... Wait, that's gay. Wait, fuck. No it isn't. Is it gay?”  
   
"Uhm.  No...." Ursa said.  "It's not gay.... If you're feeling insecure, I could be there too. That would make it really not gay.”  
   
"Could you please?" Ozai said.  "I like it when someone rubs my shoulders while I get my dick sucked.”  
   
While that was not what she most desired to rub in this spicy threesome she was concockting, she agreed enthusiastically, pleased that her plan to get some mutton chop dick was falling into place.  
   
And thus, Ursa and Ozai decided to do what most villainous couples do when trying to entrap a victim: they hosted a dinner party.  (As all wise and aged folk know, book club hostesses, cannibals, and dysfunctional married couples trying to have a threesome are the only people who ever host dinner parties.  NEVER go to a dinner party.)  
   
Ursa wished she could have seen Zhao's face upon opening the invitation, not realizing he was the only person who had received one. (His face had been contorted into that weird expression people make when they are masturbating, as he was imagining the evening progressing to the point where he was in Ozai's bed.)  
   
"I want to go to the party!" Azula said to Ursa as she packed her children to send them to their uncle's for the evening.  
   
"It's just for grownups, love," Ursa said.  
   
Ozai took the moment to bestow upon his daughter some fatherly wisdom.  "Azula, my little fire hazard. Only book club hostesses, cannibals, and dysfunctional married couples looking to have a threesome host dinner parties.  NEVER go to a dinner party.”  
   
"Which one are you?" Azula asked.  
   
"Your mother and I are cannibals," Ozai said.  
   
"Oh, okay," Azula said, utterly unperturbed.  She put on her coat, and grabbed her stuffed rabbit-bear-donkey-walrus just in time for their uncle to pick them up.  
   
Iroh arrived and rang the doorbell.  “You’re making a mistake, dear brother.  I don’t know which of the three types of dinner parties you are hosting but…”  
   
“The cannibal kind,” Zuko replied.  
   
Iroh sighed.  Catholicism didn’t exist in the Avatar universe (due to the fact their god was a 12 year old boy with tattoos and the ability to kill people with his farts), but Iroh made the sign of the cross anyway.  
   
“Let’s go, children,” he said, taking Zuko and Azula away for the night.  
   
“Okay,” Ursa said as the door shut, leaving the two of them alone.  “Do we have dinner?”  
   
“The maidservant told me it would be finished shortly,” Ozai said.  “Check.”  
   
“Do we have copious amounts of alcohol?”  
   
“Ursa, I live in this house, we ALWAYS have a well-stocked supply of intoxicating substances, both legal and illegal. And cocaine. So. Much. Cocaine. Check.”  
   
“Do we have snobby classical music records that make everyone think this is a fancy dinner party?”  
   
“I’m about to put in Bach's Cello Suites.”  
   
“Hmmm…  Pick something less heterosexual.  Tchaikovsky perhaps.”  
   
The maidservant announced that the roast was finished as soon as Ozai hit play on Joshua Bell’s captivating and tear-inducing performance of the “Violin Concerto in D.”    
   
“Wait, fuck, this is N. W. A.,” he muttered as gangsta rap began to blare from the speakers.  
   
Rolling her eyes due to her husband’s illegal taste in music (hip hop, heavy metal, and k-pop were banned in the Fire Nation), Ursa turned the violin concerto back on.   
   
At that moment, the doorbell rang.  Zhao had arrived.  Ursa’s heart fluttered in her chest, both at the nervousness at the need to impress the guest, and the anticipation of decent penis waiting just outside the door.  
   
“Oh!” Ozai said.  “One more thing!  You remembered to invite my father, right?  You sent him his invitation?”  
   
Ursa hissed, looking at the door.  “Quiet down, Ozai!”  
   
“Oh PRIIIIIINCE~!” Zhao called from outside, ringing the doorbell again.  
   
“Yes!” Ursa whispered.  “Of… of course I sent him an invitation.”  
   
“And you remembered to invite him later, so that he could walk in on our threesome?”  Ozai said, way too loudly.  
   
Zhao rang the doorbell again.  “Prince Ozai!  “I brought your favorite liquor, DVD, flowers, and baked confectioneries because I totally have not been remembering every word you say around me and writing it down for future reference for a time I want to impress you~!”  
   
“Yes, whatever!  Just open the door, Ozai,” Ursa said.  
   
“Wonderful!” Ozai said.  “You know my father in his old age suffers a terrible memory, and I’m glad you reminded him.”  
   
Ursa coughed.  “Reminded him?” she said. “Meaning he was told more than once?  I didn’t even…  I only told him once.  When was he reminded?”  
   
Ozai waltzed over to the door, stroking his beard to make it look more villainous and sophisticated.  
   
“Ozai!  Wait!  No!  We need to talk about this!” she cried out, but it was too late.  The door swung open, and Zhao pranced inside.  
   
Zhao was dressed in clothes so tight that they could see the mole on his dick through his pants. Ursa, despite her non-exposure to non-existent Catholicism, also made the sign of the cross. Immediately handing him a full bottle of vodka, not that he would even need to be drunk to dunk the dingus with Ozai, Ursa led Zhao to the dinner table and its three lonely place settings.  
   
“W… What’s going on? I thought that there would be more people here,” Zhao remarked. “Not that I mind private company with you, m’lord,” he said, tipping his fedora. “And m’lady,” he hastily added, tipping a smaller fedora underneath his first fedora.  
   
“They uhm. They’ll get here,” Ursa said, impressed he had worn a fedora for each of them, and also embarrassed that she found that impressive.  
   
“Hmmm.  Zhao said.  There seem to be only three settings at this table yonder,” he said. “If I were a more intelligent man, I’d bet that the two of you were trying to seduce me.”  
   
“The maidservant will be bringing the others out shortly,” Ursa replied smoothly.  
   
“Seduce you?” Ozai said.  “Don’t be ridiculous Zhao, my wife is perfectly capable of rubbing my shoulders AND sucking my dick at the same time.  We wouldn’t have any such intentions.”  Ozai laughed nervously as he coquettishly ran a hand back through his sleek and luscious mane.  
   
“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,”  Zhao said. “Then perhaps you are either cannibals or book club hosts.  Either way, it looks like I’m in for a grand old evening.”  
   
On the phonograph, Joshua was just reaching the epic finale of the vivacious and erotic first movement, preparing for the slower second movement, which was perfectly appropriate background music for dinner conversation. Ursa offered to take Zhao’s coat, an enormous ankle-length genuine mink that would make Macklemore stop bragging about his cock size and thrift store finds alike. Ozai pulled out Zhao’s chair for him to sit down, suggestively squeezing the Captain's shoulders.  
   
The maidservant brought out the food on a tray, a hearty soup, salad, and a fat, SUCCulent cut of roast meat.  
   
“OWO? What’s this?” Zhao said.  “It tastes like rhinoceros-goose-lion-giraffe-beef.”  
   
“It’s actually rhinoceros-goose-lion-giraffe-lamb!” Ursa said.  “My mother’s recipe.”  
   
“You cooked it?” Zhao asked.  
   
“Of course she didn’t,” Ozai scoffed. “She’s a princess.  She’s got bitches she pays for that.”  
   
“Well considering it’s animal meat, I'm guessing you're not cannibals.  I’d best remember the plot line to The Color Purple. And I didn’t even bring any mini quiches.”  
   
They consumed their meals wordlessly.  Joshua Bell’s sexy instrument (not a penis) moaned the mournful and eerie notes of a depressed and tragic Russian Gay (this is so sad Joshua play Despacito).  
   
“So…” Ursa coughed.  “Zhao.  I heard you’ve been hunting for the Moon Spirit.”   
   
“Oh yes,” Zhao replied most enthusiastically, as if Ozai had already asked for a blowjob. “Mostly I’ve been reading about it.  Apparently it’s taken a fishy form, but I don’t know how that will help me. Considering there are. You know.  Many fish in the sea.” He said.  “But only one Prince Ozai…” he murmured wistfully.  
   
“And only one Captain Zhao…” Ursa whispered as well. There were probably lots of people who could make her orgasm, it was just that she was unfortunate enough to know only one of them.  
   
“And only one throne,” Ozai hummed. He threw an arm around each of their shoulders. “So, how about an orgy?”  
   
Ursa spat out her rhinoceros-goose-lion-giraffe-lamb onto Zhao’s face. And his fedoras.  
   
“Ozai!  I was hoping we would play footsie with him under the table for several lines of dialogue while my carefully chosen mood lighting and the erotic virtuosity of a Tchaikovsky masterpiece gets everyone in the mood!”  
   
“Ursa, Zhao and I are men.  We do not understand subtlety. We need those seducing us to speak directly.  Also Zhao and I are not particularly bright men at that, so….  What do you say, Captain? Care to suck my dick?”  
   
“Would I EVER?” Zhao said.  He jumped up on the table as if he were to begin a musical number and ripped off his glittery red shirt, revealing a set of absolutely ripped pectoral muscles that were covered in thicc, masculine hair.  
   
Ursa sighed, exasperated in spite of everything going as planned. “I’ll go light the candles,” she mumbled.  
   
The Gay Russian Romantic’s third movement began, joyful, up-tempo, and excited.  Zhao and Ozai danced along on the table.  
   
Ursa went into her and Ozai’s bedroom.  She lit several candles, sprayed Febreeze™ everywhere, and shoved Ozai’s dirty, crusty socks into the laundry hamper to prepare for the orgy. Threesomes were a terrible idea, she realized.  Who’d have thought she’d have to CLEAN for COMPANY when all she wanted was to have an orgasm?    
   
She donned that one skimpy, culturally-appropriative Kyoshi Warrior costume that Ozai really liked.  “Okay boys, I’m ready whenever you are,” she called down the hallway.  
   
Alas, she received no response. “Ugh,” Ursa muttered under her breath.  “I’m wearing a silly sexy costume.  I’m hosting a dinner party.  I have two idiot fire bending men in my dining room. This sounds like a set up for hijinks, and I’m not sure what I want to see when I go in. Goddammit, all I want is to have an orgasm for the first time in ten years. I want to have some DECENT SEX. Is that so much to ask for?” She clenched her fist and strengthened her resolve, deciding to return to the dining room to check what the holdup was.   
   
When she arrived, she stopped in her tracks and screamed.  Zhao glanced up from where he was laying on the table;  Ozai looked up from sucking Zhao’s lil’ captain and fell backwards in horror. “Ursa, it’s not what it looks like!” he cried.  
   
“What!? Don’t stop!” Zhao whined, clearly in the throes of pleasure as he gripped a fistful of Ozai’s hair to draw him back towards his tromboner.  
   
“Ozai what the fuck are you doing!”  Ursa raged.  
   
“Uhm,” Ozai sputtered,  “I’m eating Zhao’s dick, because, uhm. I told our daughter that I was a cannibal.”  
   
“He eats it pretty well too!” Zhao said.   
   
“Ozai. A WORD.”  
   
“Aww, but he was just about to do that trick he learned in his college fraternity…” Zhao complained.  
   
“Ozai, NOW!”  
   
Ozai dejectedly left his junior officer on the table and followed Ursa into the hall.  Ursa pulled him into the bathroom and handed him some mouthwash.  
   
“Don’t you see what you’ve done! Now that YOU’RE sucking HIS dick that makes YOU gay.”  
   
Ozai looked at her like she had just tried to teach him fifth grade pre-algebra.  
   
“The goal was to get ZHAO to suck YOUR dick and embarrass HIM!”  
   
“But, my dear wife. My father won’t be arriving for at least another half hour. With no one to catch us in the act, what does it matter if he sucks my dick or I suck his?”   
   
The truth was, Ursa had not invited Fire Lord Azulon.  She had simply told Ozai that she had.  Of course she did not want her father-in-law walking in on her husband and her delicious piece of meat engaged in lewd acts.  But she also did not want her husband to steal her delicious piece of meat.  If Ozai brought Zhao to orgasm, then Zhao’s average-to-large sized dick would be too limp and tired to fulfill Ursa’s desires.  “It will matter to your father,” Ursa said, though she herself did not give two fucks if Ozai was technically gay or not.  
   
“Besides!” Ozai continued,  “What fun is an orgy if we can’t all get in on the action?  Isn’t reciprocity a vital ingredient in oral sex.  What right do I have to ask Zhao to suck my dick, if I don’t suck his first?”  
   
Ursa felt herself turning red.  She flushed brighter than she ever had before. Her crimson skin contrasted with her skimpy green Kyoshi Warrior costume and made her look like a Christmas tree about to commit mass murder.  “Reci…. RECIPROCITY!?” she yelled. Suddenly she grew about six inches taller, and Ozai took a step back.  “Since when do YOU believe in reciprocity? You haven’t cunnilingused me since our wedding night!”  
   
“‘Cunnilingussed’ isn’t a word!”   
   
“Apparently not in YOUR vocabulary!” Ursa screeched with an unearthly fury.  “In fact.  I don’t think you’d recognize a clitoris if it was right in front of you!”  
   
“No! Ursa! I do NOT know what a ‘clitasaurus’ is!  And I don’t WANT to know.”  
   
“Well! Guess the fuck what, you evil piece of shit! I’m going to SHOW YOU.”   
   
Zhao’s voice drifted over from the other room. “You guys okay in there?”  
   
“Yes!” Ozai called.  
   
“NO!” Ursa shouted. “Zhao, Why don’t you show this S.O.B. how to eat pussy?”  
   
Ozai panicked, weeping slightly. “Ursa, what’s a ‘sob?’”  
   
“Get up!” she shouted at Ozai.  She seized his hand, led him out of the bathroom.  In her other hand she grabbed Zhao.  And like a furious prison guard leading probably-innocent men to the gallows (the Fire Nation had a terribly corrupt criminal justice system) she marched the two fire benders to the bedroom.  
   
“Okay, you flaming homosexuals. I’m going to educatify you.” Ursa angrily lugged a chair over to the side of the bed. She then dragged Ozai over to the chair and sat him the fuck down.  Zhao she gathered and positioned like a Gumby doll in front of the bed on his knees, his head buried in the duvet.  She glared at Ozai, and then tore asunder her itchy and awful costume, lying spread eagle in front of Zhao.  
   
“Wait, what the fuck is he doing?” Ozai said.  “Is he a gynecologist or something?  Is he testing you for cervical cancer?”  
   
“I can’t believe you even know what that is,” she sighed. “Captain, do you mind showing him how it’s done?”  
   
Zhao tipped his inner fedora, the one he reserved for women. “Not at all, M’lady,” he chuckled nervously. He folded his hands and cracked his knuckles like Bugs Fuckin Bunny about to play us some sweet, sweet Hungarian Rhapsody. He placed one muscly forefinger directly onto Ursa’s Clittasaurus rex, and began his sinful ministrations with such sweet skill that Joshua Bell would have cried tears of humiliation.  
   
Ursa tilted her head back and released a sensual, involuntary moan.  This was a feeling she had not experienced for years, and it surpassed even her fantasies. It was as if her love button had just awoken from hibernation, that it was coming out of its burrow like a Goddamn Bear and was hungry for the first time in forever. She felt the blood rushing into her clit, and nerve impulses rushing out. Her hard work and scheming was finally paying off. Zhao rubbed a little bit harder, his fingers moved in a rapid figure eight over the bundle o’ fun, and she sighed breathily.  
   
“Oh, now you’re just faking it to put me to shame!” Ozai complained from his chair, finally insecure about his lack of sexual prowess, just as he should have been all along.  
   
Ursa, too caught up in a blissful state of sexual pleasure to respond, merely shuddered under Zhao’s masterful touch.   
   
“Sorry, M’lord,” Zhao said with a shrug and a tip of the outer fedora as he bent down to succ her clit.  
   
Ursa felt the fire bender’s hot tongue on her cunt. The multitude of nerve endings made the sensation almost literally in high definition.  She melted into the sheets. The walls of her baby tunnel tensed and jerked in response.  Sweet 12-year-old bald tattooed Jesus! When Zhao slipped a finger into her pu$$y and began to tactfully stroke her as he continued to service her clit, her soul briefly ascended into the spirit realm. (Pro sex tip, kids. If you’re eating out a woman, also finger her simultaneously. And remember to have safe sex and wear a condom.)  
   
“Now what’s he doing?” Ozai whined.    
   
“Nunthalunghuth,”  Zhao said through a mouthful of pussy.  
   
“Exactly what I need! THAT’S what he’s doing!” Ursa screamed from the throes of pleasure. She gripped at the sheets and kicked at the edge of the bed.  Her body could barely contain the sensation, especially after feeling it for the first time (outside her bathtub, anyway) in years.  
   
“Doesn’t that taste disgusting, Zhao?” Ozai asked.  
   
“So does your skinny penis!” Ursa retorted.  
   
Zhao looked up and smacked his lips, licking the acidic juice of love off his chin.  “You see, dear prince.  As your loyal servant, I desire nothing more than to please you, and since I care about you and your happiness, I desire to demonstrate that by bestowing pleasure upon your wife, as well as you yourself. That’s what people do when they love and care about each other. They stick their tongues in vaginas and swallow hot salty semen. It’s romantic.”  
   
“Stick your goddamn gabbing mouth back in my cooch, you sexy beast! You amateur fisherman!” Ursa shouted.  She grabbed Zhao’s head in her hand and shoved it straight into her snatch, accidentally and much to Zhao’s distress displacing his fedoras.  
   
“Yeth M’lahee!” Zhao said, tipping a now imaginary fedora as he worked.  He took Ursa’s legs in his arms, readjusted her body, and then stuck his middle fingers deep into her cave of unmapped secrets, wiggling them like a divine and sacred lunar koi fish caught in a potato sack.  
   
Ursa bit down on her lip and clenched her thighs around his mutton chopped head.  “Oh FUCK yes!” she wailed.  
   
“This is bullshit!”  Ozai said. “I’m just sitting here and no one is sucking MY Royal Parts.”  
   
“Jerk off or something,” Ursa said.  “Last Airbending Christ Savior knows I’m not putting my mouth around that thing again. Not after THIS.”  
   
Sadly, Ozai whipped out his noodle and began to stroke himself angstily as he was cucked right before his eyes.  This could be difficult for him because his royal sausage was a bit too small to grip properly, and he really could only get about two fingers on it before his own hand overshot its length.  
   
“ENTER ME BABEY!!!” Ursa demanded.  
   
“What!” Ozai shouted.  “Wait! No! I didn’t agree to this!”  
   
“I’m sorry, my love,” Zhao said, wiping clean his mouth and undoing his very, very tight pants.  “But if my Princess commands it, I have no choice, for I am just a lowly captain in our fine Fire Nation army.”  
   
“Hurry up!” Ursa said.  “My danger clam is about to explode from this anticipation!”  In fact, her Crash Bandicooch was itching and aching insatiably.  She could feel her heartbeat pounding within it, feel her body convulsing, craving that sweet, sweet Dong that wasn’t her hubby’s.  
   
Zhao lowered his pants.  Due to their tightness, this was about as difficult as whacking the wang was for Ozai.  He struggled a bit, grunting and writhing within his fabric prison.  Finally, he gave up and asked for help. “Ursa, pull on the pant legs while I lower the waistband,” he instructed.  
   
Ursa groaned with frustration. Her vagina whined in protest at the five second delay as she helped Zhao with his pants.  
   
When Zhao was finally pantsless, he gave his dick a couple quick pumps, like it was a fucking shotgun or something, and climbed onto the bed. His weenie was longer than his hand, which was new for Ursa, and she liked it. The captain’s broad chest was right above her, his thicc and wiry chest hair brushing against her nips like a fucking Mr. Clean brand titty scrubber. She reached up and stroked his mutton chops.  
   
“Hello, my princess,” he said.  “Fancy seeing you this close.”  
   
“Oh come on!” Ozai protested. “Is this really necessary?” Even Zhao, who was still into him despite for the first time witnessing his small bengis, paid Ozai's bitching no mind.  
   
Zhao positioned himself between Ursa’s legs, like a dog turning in a circle before it laid down.  “AlliOOP!” he said, as he pushed his average to large oyster knife into Ursa’s oyster.  
   
Ursa gasped.  She could actually FEEL his penis within her.  It was there, it kind of hurt a little.  It was like coming out of a sensory deprivation tank and at last seeing the sunlight.  She was absorbing the feeling, just being aware of her senses, having a Mindful Fucking Experience like her therapist told her to do.  
   
“YEET!” Ursa declared, her love bun clenching around the novel item like an octopus investigating a strange object that had been put in its tank.   
   
“Am I pleasing you, M’lady?” Zhao growled sexily in her ear, sensuously and eagerly thrusting into her as he stealthily reached for his fallen fedoras.  
   
Ursa was too busy soaking in the glory of actually average-quality coitus to reply.  “Fuck me harder, you idiot moon freak!” she cried.  “You want to be Zhao the Conqueror! Conquer me!  Stop with this Moon Slayer business and SLAY. MY. PUSSY!”  
   
“As you wish, M’lady.” Zhao said.  He gripped her body in his sexy broad hands and pounded into her, and Ursa sang out like the fat lady at the climax of a Wagner Opera as her cervix was beaten into a delicious bloody pulp.  
   
“Guys? Do you remember that I’m here?” Ozai asked in a fruitless attempt to get his dick sucked, for they, in fact, did not remember that he was there.  
   
Ursa dug her fingernails into Zhao’s back, leaving deep, long scratches in his skin, the battle scars of sexual conquest. Her body felt like it was about to redirect lightning, the energy flowing through it so intense she would have to let it out somehow. Maybe she would shoot it back at Ozai. That would be fun. Zap Zap motherfucker.  
   
“You do seem to be enjoying yourself, Mistress!” Zhao said.  
   
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH” Ursa howled like a wild animal in the heat.  
   
“Um?” Ozai muttered. “H-hewwo?”  
   
“And I am enjoying…. UGH!  I am enjoying myself too!” Zhao said.  “I must say princess; your Tunnel of Love is quite tight.”  
   
Ursa’s face contorted in pleasure.  She could feel it.  Building in her stomach like a hungry mountain-lion-wolf-bear-yeti-mothman ready to escape its cage. Yowling and scratching at the bars, straining the lock.  It would soon burst out and ravage her body. She just needed Zhao to give her a few.  More… pounds. And….  
   
“FUCK!” She arched her back and screamed. An Orgasm.  At last.  She had forgotten what they felt like, but now she remembered.  Her scheme had worked, and in that moment, she gave nary a single fuck that she may never again feel such pleasure, and not a shit did she give that Ozai was brooding bitterly on his chair, his lil’ slugger forgotten.  She clenched her legs around Zhao and squeezed, shaking uncontrollably.    
   
“Wait!  What did you do to my wife!” Ozai sputtered.  “She’s dying! Ursa! URSA!”   
   
“No!  Ursa said. “I have been awakened. Goddamn it feels good to be alive.”  
   
Zhao laughed.  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, m'lady.” He paused.  “OPe!” He said like a midwestern housewife at a potluck about to squeeze past someone to grab the ranch.  “I think I’m gonna have a little… enjoyment… of… my...own…” And his balls decided to let lose their precious cargo of lil baby Zhaos.  
   
“Oh, come on.” Ozai pouted.  
   
“Oh FUCK!” Ursa said, as her raging mountain-lion-wolf-bear-yeti-mothman wore itself out and returned to its hidy hole in the back of her vaginé. She was panting and sweating. Zhao rolled over next to her, their disgusting and wet naughty bits now exposed to the air.  
   
Ozai coughed.  
   
“Oh,” Zhao said. “I think he’s been tolerant of our adultery for quite enough, plus I did come here with the intent of fucking him and not you. No offense, M’lady.” At last retrieving his pair of fedoras from the floor, he tipped one.  
   
“Sure,” Ursa said with a sigh.  “We can through him a bone.”  
   
“Afraid not, M’lady.  My bone is all limp and tired,” Zhao said.  “But I do have a working mouth and a working asshole.”  
   
“A working asshole you say!” Ozai seethed.  “Because by the time I’m through with it, you smug son of a bitch, your asshole won’t work for a whole month!  I’m gonna tear it apart!”  
   
“Not with a dick like that he won’t,” Ursa muttered.  
   
“Oh!” Zhao squealed. “I’m so excited!  Exactly the fantasy I masturbated to after getting your invitation!” he leaned over the side of the bed licentiously.  Ozai got some fancy lube oil from his nightstand and furiously lathered up his cocktail weenie dick.  
   
Meanwhile, Ursa booped Zhao on the nose. “I still got energy in me for one more orgasm, I think.”  
   
“I live to serve M’lady.” He placed his tongue and fingers obediently on Ursa’s No-No while Ozai yowled in anger and slapped Zhao’s ass.   
   
Zhao parted his cheeks enthusiastically, and Ozai thrust into the man who had given his wife the pleasure that he could not.  “I’m going to fuck the life out of you, Zhao!”  
   
Zhao looked up from Ursa’s clit.  “Oh Sacred Heart of 12-y-o airbending Jesus PLEASE DO! AHH!  FUCK YES!”  
   
Ursa leaned back and let Zhao work his magic on her lady meat, watching contentedly while Ozai went at it like a chihuahua on a teddy bear, and Zhao moaned with ecstasy although it was unlikely that he could feel the dingaling inside of him anyway.  
   
“Yes! My sweet prince!” Zhao panted.  “Make me your royal consort!  Let me please and serve you!”  
   
“Yeah!  You’re gonna Take it!” Ozai growled, “all THREE INCHES of it!  You’re gonna be my queen!”  
   
“You boys having fun?” Ursa said. She wasn’t much of a Martha-Stewart type, but she did get a vague sense of satisfaction from knowing that her dinner party was a success.  
   
“YES!”  Zhao said as the object of his affections vigorously rammed it into him.  “Yes yes YES!”  
   
At that moment there was a knock on the front door, not that the three love-birds heard it.  The knock came again. And then again, louder, to no answer.  
   
The door crashed down in a wave of fire, but the simultaneous howls of pleasure from the orgy drowned it out. It burst from its hinges, and the intruder stomped his way into the room and to the source of the noise.  The threesome paused mid body-contortion.  
   
In the frame of the door stood none other than a very angry, and very, very shocked Fire Lord Azulon.  
   
There was a moment of silence more awkward than any of those at the dinner party, and a complete stillness as time froze.  Ursa barely had the thought to maybe put her hand over her titties so her father-in-law would forget that she possessed a pair, but that seemed to be the least of Azulon’s concerns.  
   
A cricket that had been living underneath Ozai’s nightstand started to sing, hoping to get a little honkey-tonk of its own, unaware of the necessary background noise it was providing for this death-inducing awkward silence.  
   
Azulon finally caught his breath long enough to open his mouth.  And when he did, he did so loudly. “What the everloving fuck is going on here!?” he raged.  
   
“Well, lots of loving AND lots of fucking, as you can see. Father…” Ozai whimpered.  
   
“Fire Lord Azulon!” Ursa said, grabbing a blanket to cover up her titties and twat.  “What… What are you doing here?”  
   
“What am I…” Fire Lord Azulon exploded in a wave of heat, fire bursting from his hands and mouth.  “MY SON INVITED ME!”  
   
“What?” Ursa said.  
   
“Wait…” Ozai said.  “You didn’t send him the invite, Ursa?”  
   
“Ozai…” Ursa squeeked.  “You TOLD him?”  
   
“Of course I did!” Ozai said.  “You TOLD me he was going to be invited.  I assumed your invitation was just going to be a reminder!”  
   
“Of course I didn’t invite my father in law to watch my pussy get pounded, Ozai!  But I didn’t think you’d invite him yourself!”  
   
“So you actually didn’t care about our plan at all?” Ozai said.  
   
“Is everything okay?” Zhao said.  
   
“No…” Ursa said, trying to cover herself.   
   
“SILENCE!” Azulon shouted, setting the curtains on the nearby window ablaze.  
   
Ursa and Ozai fell quiet as ordered.  
   
“My disappointing son is gay!? Why should I even be surprised? And Captain Zhao, you mutton-chopped fuck, did he talk you into this? Begone, thot! I’d like to have a private word with just the two of you.”  
   
Zhao frowned.  He pulled his tongue out of Ursa’s snapdragon, and pulled Ozai’s le petit prince from his chocolate chute. He then grabbed his pants.  
   
The Fire Nation Royal Family waited as Zhao struggled to shove his legs into the tight leather trousers. It took him a good five minutes, but finally, sweating, in pain, exhausted, and with a few broken fingers, he managed to button them closed and exit the bedroom.  
   
Ursa and Ozai covered themselves with blankets whilst Azulon began to smoke like Snoop Dog after a trip to his dealer.  
   
“I don’t know what in the name of every spirit that exists on this planet this is about….” Azulon said, approaching the couple, his smelly old man breath tickling Ozai’s nose.  “But I swear on those same spirits, I will NEVER forget this.  I don’t know if I can fix up a punishment fit for this. Or even if it deserves punishing. But… Your shame shall live as long as I do, Ozai!”  
   
“As long as you live?” Ursa echoed, wrinkling her eyebrows.  
   
“Yes!” Azulon barked.  “Every time you see me, I will look you in the eye.  And we both will remember this moment!  When my son and my daughter-in-law made such huge asses of themselves it nearly caused my 90-year-old-man heart to explode.”  
   
“Wait.” Ursa pressed. “So as long as you live…”  
   
Azulon burst into flame.  (Don’t worry. He was a firebender. It only hurt a little bit.)  “YES!” He shrieked like the hellbeast asswipe that he was.  
   
“Mark my worms, Ozai.  MARK HAMMILL MY MOTHERFUCKING WORDS.”  Azulon fire bent a plume of smoke around himself, and when the smoke dissipated, he was gone.  
   
Ursa and Ozai paused.  
   
“So…” Ursa said.  “I ah… I had a pretty good orgasm.”  
   
“I heard.”  Ozai whispered.  
   
They didn’t make eye contact.  
   
“And you ah… You know a few tricks for oral sex now.” Ursa said.  
   
“I do.”  
   
The cricket under the nightstand chirped away.  
   
“Ozai,” Ursa said.  “He’s never going to forget this.”  
   
“Well, he uhm, said he wouldn’t,” Ozai said.  
   
“Welp,” Ursa said with a sigh.  “There’s only one thing we can do.  Ozai, do you want to murder your father?”  
   
Ozai grabbed her shoulders and looked her in the eye.  “OH GOD YES.”  
   
And thusly, the plot to Zuko Alone was initiated.  And all things that were foretold in the prophecy of the Great Bryke came to pass.  
   
And as the Swedes say,  “SLUT.”   
   
-SLUT-


End file.
